The Queen's Eyes
by underoriginal
Summary: Desperate to find a way to redeem their brother, the princes of the Southern Isles send Hans back to Arrendale. Hans agrees to become a member of the mysterious police force, the Queen's Eyes. He wonders why he is given so much power, but he comes to realize the price. As Hans wonders if he made the right choice, a blizzard raises the question: Is Elsa the only sorcerer out there?
1. Chapter 1

In the Great Hall of the Royal Palace of the Southern Isles, the eldest four of the princes were deep in discussion about their errant brother.

"We can't just execute him," Prince Aleksander insisted.

"Why not?" Crown Prince Valdemar asked coldly.

"He's our brother," Aleksander practically shouted.

"He is a criminal," Valdemar retorted. "Should we treat him any different from any other traitor? The people would not approve." He cast a meaningful look at Prince Ragnvald, who was sitting silently in his corner.

"We cannot," King Wilhelm interrupted his younger brothers. "But that does not mean he should be put to death. There may very well be mitigating circumstances, which must not be ignored."

"Ignored," Ragnvald repeated. "Funny word, that. Hans used it an awful lot."

"That he did, brother," Wilhelm sighed.

A hush fell over the room.

Finally, Valdemar spoke. "Criminals must be punished," he whispered. "All of them. Like it or not, we are complicit. If we had just listened to him..."

"Nothing would have changed," Aleksander finished. "He was desperate for power."

"That's strange," Wilhelm noted. "It sounds almost like you want him to be punished now."

"I do," Aleksander said. "He must be punished for his crimes. But that doesn't mean we should put our own family to the sword."

"The point still stands," Valdemar said. "We are no more innocent than Hans."

Wilhelm laid a hand on his brother's shoulder. "We have all made mistakes where are brother is concerned, yes, but we are no more traitors than Ragnvald."

Ragnvald grinned to himself. "There are three," he noted.

Wilhelm looked at his brothers carefully, then leaned down to look Ragnvald in the eye. "I leave the decision in your hands, then," he declared.

Ragnvald tilted his head to the side, closing his eyes and listening to the silence. "We are in agreement," he said.

"What have you agreed?" Aleksander asked.

"We are in agreement," Ragnvald recited tonelessly.

"About what?" Aleksander demanded, face red with anger.

Ragnvald shrank back in his seat.

Valdemar pulled Aleksander back gently. "Why don't you ask Gustav or Sigurd?" he asked. "They'll know too."

Aleksander sighed. "Yes. I'll do that."

Wilhelm clapped his broad hands together. "Wonderful," he proclaimed. "We'll have this mess sorted in no time. You are dismissed. All of you."

Aleksander and Valdemar bowed and left, although it was the mocking bow of brother to brother. Ragnvald didn't move.

"Will you be alright?" Wilhelm asked gently.

Ragnvald shook himself. "I will be well," he said clearly. "They were quite...adamant regarding Hans. It's not surprising. They tend to be fond of their princes."

"Can you tell me what you meant earlier? What you agreed on?"

Ragnvald's lips curled into a hollow smile. "You know I can't. You know more than I do." He pulled out a knife and started absentmindedly carving the wooden table. "Please. Go. Sigurd at the least still remembers. They have not let go of him yet. Go."

Wilhelm went.

He couldn't find Sigurd, but that was hardly surprising. The eleventh son of the late King Leopold was always dashing about on some adventure or another. Aleksander had gotten lucky, though.

He ran up to Wilhelm breathing heavily. "I caught Sig before he could leave," he reported. "He's off to the docks of all places."

"Why would he want to go there?" Wilhelm chuckled.

Aleksander shrugged. "Why does Sig do anything?" he asked rhetorically.

"Did he say anything about Hans?" Wilhelm asked.

Aleksander's face darkened. "He says Hans must be given a second chance."

Wilhelm took a deep breath. "Then we will grant him that, god help us all."

"This can't end well," Aleksander predicted.

It didn't.

Six months, five escape attempts, three acts of domestic terrorism, and a briefly successful coup of the Duchy of Weselton later, all twelve brothers reconvened in the Great Hall.

"Well, this has been an unmitigated disaster," Viggo said wryly.

"We have completely lost all trade with Weselton," Edvard reported.

"Which includes the sword steel I need for my next creation," Viggo added.

"And also the grain we will need to survive this winter," Torben noted. "Which is a somewhat greater concern, I should think."

"Oh, are you thinking now?" Viggo snarked. "That's new. Don't strain yourself."

"How long did it take you to come up with that retort?" Torben asked. "A year? Two?"

"It wasn't really a retort," Lars whispered to Gunnar, who snorted.

"Is this relevant?" Wilhelm asked icily, cutting through the debate.

"Completely," Viggo said. "I need the steel to reinforce the balustrades. After Hans's last...adventure, we're almost completely defenseless."

"That does not mean you need to harass your brother," Valdemar pointed out.

"And it brings us back to the reason we're here: What do we do with Hans?" Aleksander said.

The hall was silent for a few long moments. Ragnvald, Gustav, and Sigurd shared a long, meaningful glance.

"We already told you what you need to do," Sig said. "It's pretty obvious really."

"We have given Hans a second chance," Aleksander said. "And a third. And a fourth. He has squandered all of them."

"And why the hell wouldn't he?" Jannik scoffed. "Why would he care about redeeming himself to us. If he gets his second chance here, what would that get him? A lifetime of being ignored. I think he's proven that he doesn't want that."

"I hate to say it, but Jan's right," Gunnar said. "He won't even try here."

"Don't call me that," Jannik snarled.

"Sure, poppet," Gunnar laughed.

Jannik leapt over the table at his elder brother. Viggo caught him in one hand and set him back down.

"Anyway," Lars said, after allowing a moment for the awkward silence, "Jannik's got the right idea. Why don't we send Hans to someone else?"

"That's a wonderful idea," Wilhelm said with a sigh of relief. "Now the question is: Who can redeem our brother?"

Edvard pulled out a few notes and flipped through them. "That's an easy enough question to answer," he said. "In fact, the realm with the highest number of reformed prisoners is-"

"Wait, wait, wait," Sig interrupted. "Someone actually figures that stuff out?"

Edvard glared at him. "Yes. As I was saying, the realm with the highest number of reformed prisoners is, by an incredibly large margin, Arrendale."

Everyone turned to stare at him incredulously.

"What?" he asked self consciously.

"Are you serious?" Aleksander asked.

"Of course," Edvard said. "Why?"

Torben leaned over and whispered in his twin's ear. Edvard blushed. "Oh. Right."

"So. Now what?" Lars asked.

Gustav snapped his fingers twice. When every eye had turned to him, he wrote down a short note.

Sig read it over his shoulder. "He says we send Hans to Arrendale anyway. If anyone can deal with Hans, it's Queen Elsa."

Valdemar steepled his finger like he always did when he was considering a particularly tough challenge.

"I think Jannik's idea has merit as well," he said.

"Yes," Ragnvald said.

Wilhelm looked at his brother for a few moments, then he stood.

"It is decided," he intoned gravely. "Edvard, send a message to Queen Elsa. Aleksander, Viggo, and Gunnar, if she agrees, and only if she agrees, you will escort Hans to Arrendale along with two of your guards.

"I wanna go too," Sig said.

"No," Wilhelm said. "The journey would kill you."

"Princess Anna left Arrendale for days and she lives," Sig insisted.

"Princess Anna had troll magic to protect her," Valdemar pointed out.

"My word is final," Wilhelm declared.

Sig pouted, but acquiesced, already planning his escape.


	2. Chapter 2

"Lord Commander Kristoff. Thank you for coming," Elsa greeted, looking up from the mass of papers strewn across his desk.

Taking his cue from Elsa, Kristoff bowed respectfully. "Your majesty."

Elsa leaned forward. "I need your advice on a...delicate diplomatic situation."

"Wouldn't it be better to ask Anna about stuff like that?" Kristoff asked. "I mean, diplomacy really isn't my strong suit."

Elsa smirked. "I already asked Anna," she said. "But I'd like a second opinion. I only seem to get different opinions from the pair of you if you're separated before you can conspire."

Kristoff grinned wryly. "Guilty as charged."

"Anyway," Elsa continued. "I got a letter yesterday from Prince Edvard of the Southern Isles."

Kristoff raised an eyebrow. "I'm not gonna like where you're going with this, am I?" he asked.

"Sorry," Elsa said. "He asked us to try to redeem Hans."

Kristoff stared speechlessly for a minute. "What?" he asked blankly.

"Apparently, they have been trying unsuccessfully to rehabilitate him and they think we could do a better job," Elsa elaborated.

"What?" Kristoff repeated. "Why would they even try to rehabilitate him in the first place? It's pretty obvious he's a sociopath."

"Maybe," Elsa said, "but the Southern Isles have three Speakers and all of them are in agreement that he must be redeemed. That's kinda hard to argue with."

"Well, yeah," Kristoff agreed. "So you're gonna take him then?"

Elsa shrugged. "The problem is he can't be redeemed from a jail cell, but it's too risky do give him much freedom."

"That's why we founded the Queen's Eyes," Kristoff pointed out. "Why don't you just slap a blue cloak on him and hope for the best. I can manage him."

"Actually, I need you to inspect the guard towers on the eastern border," Elsa informed, "But I do plan to put Hans in the Queen's Eyes, or at least give him the opportunity."

Kristoff crossed his arms. "Don't you have army inspectors to inspect the army?" he demanded.

"I'd rather you do it," Elsa said. "It's probably better if you stay away from Arrendale for a while, at least until we get things sorted."

"Away from Anna, you mean," Kristoff guessed darkly.

"Yes," Elsa admitted. "Kristoff, I like you, a lot, and I think you're an amazing match for Anna. I'm very happy for both of you, really I am, but as Queen I must be a diplomat, and I can't afford for Anna to be dating a commoner right now, no offense."

"None taken," Kristoff said icily, "but I thought the Queen was supposed to rule the people, not be ruled by them."

"If that were true, then why are there Speakers?" Elsa asked. "I know how much you ate diplomacy, but you need to understand this: Imagine you're an ambitious nobleman who thinks he might be able to exploit a nearby kingdom."

Kristoff nodded. "So, imagine I'm Hans, basically?"

"Or a combination of Hans and the Duke of Weasel-Weselton," Elsa agreed. "You have to choose where you want to go. A neighboring realm has been ruled for three years by a regent. This regent was clearly only interested in keeping the realm stable. Now, the heir has come of age. The first thing this heir does as monarch is nearly destroy their own kingdom and flee. Shortly thereafter, a mostly insignificant royal very nearly succeeds in taking over. The kingdom is saved by what amounts to very good timing and very good luck."

"Okay, yeah, that doesn't sound so great," Kristoff ceded, "but that doesn't mean I should leave Anna behind."

"I'm not asking you to," Elsa insisted. "The last thing I want is for Anna or you to be unhappy. I'm asking you to consider what happens if the not-yet-awakened Speaker of this obviously weakened and vulnerable kingdom openly courts a commoner."

Kristoff couldn't think of any retort.

"Just give me a few months, a year at the absolute most, and then it should be alright."

Kristoff sighed. "Alright. Fine. How long will I be on the border?"

Elsa relaxed as they entered more stable ground. "If everything goes well, no more than three weeks."

"And if everything doesn't go well?" Kristoff asked darkly.

"As long as necessary."

"Lovely."

"Thank you," Elsa said gratefully. "Who will be in charge of the Queen's Eyes while you're away? Any ideas?"

"Thyra," Kristoff replied promptly.

"Are you sure?" Elsa asked nervously. "Isn't she a bit..."

"Insane?" Kristoff supplied. "Yeah. But she knows what she's doing and no one would dare mutiny while I'm away if she's in charge."

"Fair point," Elsa said, "but we both know you just want to see her ordering Hans about."

"You're telling me you don't?" Kristoff asked.

Elsa shrugged. "I can neither confirm nor deny," she said primly. "Why don't you and Anna go enjoy the weather," she offered.

Kristoff didn't need to be told twice. He was at the door almost before she finished speaking. When he opened it, Anna fell inside.

"Sorry," she said sheepishly.

Elsa buried her head in her hands. She loved her sister, but...

The cell door creaked open ominously. Hans vaguely wondered if there was some special technique to make the door so ominous or if it was just chance.

He straightened up on the wooden bench, propping his foot up on his knee and spreading his chained hands apart in a gesture of welcome.

"Viggo!" he crowed. "What brings you to my humble abode? Sorry the place is such a mess. I wasn't expecting visitors, you see."

"Shut up," Viggo ordered.

Hans gave him an exaggerated pout. "What are you gonna do now, brother dear? Will you let me go if I pinky promise I learned my lesson?"

"No," Viggo said bluntly.

"Then why are you here?" Hans asked curiously.

"Wilhelm has decided that we can't rehabilitate you," Viggo said.

Hans leaned forward. "Oh, but the Speakers said I must be fixed. Are you just going to ignore them? Will you put your own brother to the sword?" He added a little laugh to make it look like he didn't actually care.

"No," Viggo repeated. "We're taking you to Arrendale instead."

For a second, Hans's mask slipped. "What?" he asked.

"Queen Elsa can manage you a lot better than we can," Viggo explained. "Personally, I'll be happy to wash my hands of you. You always were more trouble than you're worth. At least this way you'll be someone else's problem."

Hans briefly toyed with the idea of trying to fight when Viggo unchained him, but he didn't even bother trying. Only Valdemar was ever able to beat Viggo in a fair fight. In an unfair fight, Torben or Aleksander sometimes managed. Ragnvald, too, but any fight involving Ragnvald was unfair. One way or the other.

Aleksander and Gunnar met them when they got to the docks. Apparently, Hans was special enough to warrant the full entourage. It was the first time since he was five Aleksander had actually paid attention to him.

The attention only lasted as long as it took to lock him into his new cell. The brig was much more cramped than his cell at the palace, but it had bars facing the deck instead of a thick door, so at least he'd be ever so slightly less bored.

That evening, after cold broth for dinner, he was settling down to sleep when he saw a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye. He looked around carefully and froze when he saw a head of curly blond hair poking out from one of the barrels. Sig caught his eye and made a shushing gesture.

He should really tell Aleksander, Hans thought, Sig could die if he was away from home for too long.

Hans winked at his brother. As he curled up under the rough blanket he sent up a quick prayer to whichever god invented plausible deniability.


	3. Chapter 3

Arrendale had always been a beautiful kingdom, Aleksander reflected, but in the winter it was positively a wonderland. Especially with the artistic talents of Queen Elsa and her legendary powers. Of course, most of the talk had to be legend. No sorcerer, no matter how powerful, could have possibly frozen an entire kingdom by accident. In the throes of grief or fear, maybe, but not without even realizing.

"We will be docking in five minutes, your highness," the ship's captain called.

Aleksander nodded in acknowledgement. He looked up at the crow's nest. "Gunnar!" he shouted. "Get down here!"

Gunnar climbed down from the crow's nest like a cat and jumped the last twenty feet, landing in a graceful crouch a mere foot away from his elder brother.

"What's up?" he asked.

"We're docking soon," Aleksander explained. "Get Hans."

Gunnar saluted half sincerely and strode away.

About halfway through the voyage, Hans had resigned himself to the worst.

He knew what Elsa was capable of, remembered her nearly killing the Duke of Weselton's men, remembered snow storms and ice palaces and nearly falling off a staircase to his death. He remembered her breaking through solid walls like tissue paper and holding a storm motionless through nothing more than sheer force of grief. He remembered that she had a lot of very good reasons to want him dead.

All of his brothers were known factors, manageable, even malleable. Elsa was a complete unknown, filled with terrifying power and utterly untouchable.

He weighed his options carefully. None of them looked good. When Gunnar came for him to tell him they were docking, he just held out his hands wordlessly. He might as well get it over with.

Gunnar was far more subdued than usual as he locked the manacles around his brother's wrists. Hans like to imagine he felt guilty. It was probably only the scandal that was bothering him, though.

When the ship docked, the princes were met by the same old herald who had greeted Hans upon his first arrival.

"Welcome to Arrendale," the herald, Kai, said, far less jovially than he had on coronation day.

"Thank you," Aleksander said. "I regret that we should come in such grave circumstances. It is quite a lovely city."

Kai raised an eyebrow. "We got enough of the sweet talking from your little brother," he snarked. "Loosen up."

Aleksander grinned. "Generally, I try not to offend people when he first meet them."

"He saves the offending for later," Viggo interjected.

"Yes. Exactly."

Kai chuckled. "You have fun with that."

Hans grimaced. Honestly, his brothers were appalling.

He tuned them out and instead focused his attention on trying to look around Viggo's bulk to see the city. The icy decorations on nearly every home were beautiful, but they sent fear jolting down his spine.

As they neared the palace, which seemed to loom menacingly above them, Gunnar managed to accidentally capture his brother's attention.

"Who are those people in the blue cloaks?" he asked.

Hans looked where Gunnar had gestured. Sure enough, there was a small knot of people, maybe six at the most, all wearing a pale blue cloak with fur trim and a silver pendant shaped like an eye. The iris of the eye was a gem the same color as their cloaks, but it almost seemed to glow.

"Oh, those are the Queen's Eyes," Kai said nonchalantly. "They're one of the things her majesty has changed around here, for the better I'd say. They're sort of like a police force, except every one of them, except Lord Commander Kristoff, was a criminal."

"A criminal?" Aleksander asked, intrigued.

"Yep," Kai affirmed. "Really nasty ones too. Her majesty thought that the prisons were a waste of resources, so she gave the prisoners a second chance. Some of 'em are still a bit unstable, but there haven't been any incidents since she started the program. If anything, crime's gone down."

"Fascinating," Aleksander mused.

"Define really nasty," Viggo ordered with a small smile.

"See the small one over there?" Kai asked, pointing out a slender man with trembling fingers and round glasses. "He poisoned the late King and Queen. They barely survived and they couldn't bear children after that."

Gunnar let out a low whistle. "What does he do now?" he asked.

"His chief duty is to make sure that all food supplies in and out of Arrendale are up to par. He saved us from what would have been a pretty nasty food poisoning epidemic."

"How does Queen Elsa keep them all in line?" Aleksander asked.

Kai shrugged. "State secret," he said. "No one but the Queen's Eyes and the royal family know. I'm not really sure I want to. I figure some question are best left unanswered."

"Well, that's not ominous in the slightest," Viggo noted.

Kai gave them a self-deprecating smile. "The Queen's a good lady," he said. "I know she's not doing anything wrong or immoral. I just avoid looking gift horses in the mouth, you know?"

With those words, they arrived at the palace. Kai announce their arrival and the doors swung open of their own accord.

Well, Hans thought, time to face the beast.

The walls of the hall were overlaid with delicate latticework of ice. The late afternoon sun caught in the crystalline trellises, sending rainbows dancing across the floor. Hans swallowed nervously.

At the end of the hall, Her Royal Majesty, Queen Elsa of Arrendale sat on her throne, presiding over her frozen court. On her right, Crown Princess Anna sat on a slightly less impressive throne, looking almost as nervous as Hans felt, though none of his fear showed on his face. On Queen Elsa's left, the ice seller Kristoff stood beside the throne. A blue cloak was thrown over his shoulders, but his eye pendant was gold. His hands rested loosely on the haft of a double bladed battle axe. Hans had to give him credit for feigning confidence so well with a weapon he had likely never wielded before.

"Princes Aleksander, Viggo, and Gunnar of the Southern Isles," Kai announced.

Elsa inclined her head gracefully.

"Welcome to Arrendale," she said, "I missed you at the coronation." The reproach was plain in her voice. Hans stifled a grin.

Aleksander stepped forward, bowing respectfully. "Prince Aleksander, your highness. The Southern Isles was attacked by marauders from the East just before the coronation. Hans was supposed to have explained the situation to you personally, but, well, that didn't exactly pan out."

"I see," Elsa said. "In that case, I apologize if I seemed rude. I've been under a great deal of stress."

"That's perfectly understandable," Aleksander said, giving her a disarming grin.

She raised an eyebrow. "Now, on to business. I understand that you are giving Hans to me for sentencing."

"Yes," Aleksander said. "With the stipulation that you must at least try to rehabilitate him. Our Speakers have insisted."

"I see," Elsa said. "In that case, let's not waste time."

She turned to look Hans in the eye, and he had to resist the urge to shrink back.

"Now, Hans, in Arrendale, we have two options for dealing with a crime such as yours and by law you get to choose which option you'd like," she explained.

Hans nodded to show he understood.

"Both options are for a five year sentence. After five years, we will review your case and determine whether we can let you go free. Your first option is a period of servitude in the royal household. You will have to be constantly monitored and your work would be mostly tasks no one else wants."

"What's option two?" Hans asked nervously.

"Option two is you joining the Queen's Eyes," Elsa said. "I assume Kai has already told you what they are?"

Hans nodded. "Would I serve under, uh, Lord Commander Kristoff, then?" he asked, making it clear what he thought of the title.

"Eventually, yes," Elsa said. "But Kristoff will be away on business for the first few weeks and you will answer to his second, Thyra, during that time."

Hans only needed a moment to decide. "I'll take option two he declared."

"It is done," Elsa proclaimed solemnly.

"Wait, wait," Anna interjected. "Are you sure you want Thyra in command?"

"Yes," Kristoff sighed. "Why does everyone keep asking me that?"

"Because she murdered both her husbands in their sleep," Elsa said wryly.

Hans tensed.

"No she didn't!" Kristoff insisted.

Hans relaxed

"The first one was awake."


	4. Chapter 4

As soon as the sentence was formalized, Kristoff escorted Hans out of the hall. Unfortunately in Hans's opinion, not quickly enough to miss Elsa's invitation to his brothers to stay a few days. Hans wanted them all as far away from him as possible.

Kristoff stopped in a side room to uncuff him, then walked away, gesturing for Hans to follow and leaving his back wide open. It was the perfect opportunity to take him down and run for it. It was such a perfect opportunity that Hans fell into step beside Kristoff.

"Queen Elsa must be really stupid to put an oaf like you in charge of anything," Hans mocked.

Kristoff nodded and grunted noncommittally.

"I mean, seriously," Hans went on. "You take my cuffs off and then just walk off and expect me to follow like some trained lap dog."

Kristoff shrugged.

"And, really? Leaving your back wide open like that? If I wanted to, I could have killed you right there, even without weapons." Hans couldn't even begin to fathom the idiocy.

"So how come I'm still breathing?" Kristoff asked curiously.

Hans stopped in his tracks and barely kept his mouth from dropping open. "You scheming bastard," he snarled.

Kristoff grinned. "No need to insult my mother," he chastised, then sobered. "Alright, now that I've made my point, if you try to run, I'm not gonna pretend that I'm necessarily gonna be able to stop you. I might and chances are I will, but I'm not gonna bet on it. So you should probably know that you won't leave Arrendale. The second you pass the gates, Elsa will know, and I think we both know what happens then."

Hans shivered, just a bit. "Noted."

They passed by a group of Blue Cloaks and Kristoff nodded in greeting.

"We getting a newbie?" one of them, a gorgeous dark haired man, called.

"Yep," Kristoff said. "That's Aron," he added to Hans. "He used to be a consort, until he started murdering his clients for their money. What I'm trying to say here is don't try it."

"I wouldn't have," Hans insisted, shocked that he would even suggest it.

"Another thing you should know," Kristoff added, "If you start acting like you're better than them, they'll cut you down to size."

"I am better than them," Hans said.

Kristoff raised an eyebrow. "Really? Cause about ten minutes ago I could have sworn you were in chains."

"What about you, then?" Hans asked. "You're no criminal."

"I was raised by trolls," Kristoff said. "Actual trolls. Yeah, I'm no crook, but I know what it's like to have everyone in society hate you."

"With good reason," Hans muttered.

"You're one of us now," Kristoff said darkly. "Get over yourself."

They walked in silence for a few minutes, Hans contemplating everything he had just been told. A few children stared at them, at him, but he ignored them.

"Is it much farther?" he asked eventually.

Kristoff snorted. "You really are a bratty kid, aren't you?" he mused. "It's a few more minutes. We decided it would be best to put the barracks on the edge of town. Now. Listen up. I'm about to tell you everything you need to know to survive."

Hans listened carefully.

"First off, you're not really part of the Queen's Eyes. Not yet, anyway. You're in the trial period. You get one month as a rookie and after that you get to decide if you want to join the force or pick your alternative sentence. Most people go with the latter. During your trial period, you'll also be rooming with an older Blue Cloak to make sure you don't try to kill anyone in their sleep. In your case, it'll probably be Thyra or Simon. You'd like Simon. He tried to stage a coup, too."

Hans wan't actually sure he'd like Simon that much, but he at least seemed like a better option than the legendary Thyra. Kristoff gave him a second to digest that information, then held out his pendent so it caught the light.

"This is your _auga_," he said. "Well, this one's mine. Yours'll be silver. But anyway. This is your life. Since you're still a rookie, you'll have to wear it everywhere you go. Once you're properly initiated, you only have to wear it in public, but it's even more part of the uniform than the cloak."

"Why is it so important?" Hans asked.

"See that gem in the middle?" Kristoff asked. Hans nodded.

"That's called the _syn. _It record everything your eyes see. That way, if any Queen's Eye is witness to a crime, or is accused of one, Elsa can review what is recorded to ensure that the testimony is accurate. That's why she can allow the Queen's Eyes so much freedom without having to fear for her people."

"So why can you take it off once you're initiated?" Hans asked suspiciously.

"You'll either find out or you won't," Kristoff deflected. "I don't really care which."

With those ominous words, they arrived at the barracks. It was a long building two stories tall but stretching maybe three or four hundred feet back. The windows were all made of ice. Off to the side was a row of stables. As they approached, one of the stable doors opened and a reindeer bounded over to Kristoff, looking excited.

"Oh, alright, fine," Kristoff laughed. He pulled a carrot out of his pocket and offered it to the reindeer. The reindeer bit off half and then Kristoff ate the other half. Hans shuddered in distasted.

Kristoff chuckled again when he noticed. "Hans, meet Sven," he introduced. "Sven, Hans."

Thankfully, before Hans could be expected to answer, the door to the barracks opened.

Standing in the threshold was the...largest person Hans had ever encountered. In terms of physical size, she was fairly small, shorter than himself, maybe even shorter than Sig, but she had the sort of presence of bearing that made her seem uncomfortably close even at twenty feet away. The thick lines of corded muscles in her arms and legs did little to encourage him and the slightly insane grin on her face actively discomfited him. Her hair was in two great black braids down her back and she hefted a sword half as long as she was tall without any apparent discomfort.

Kristoff grinned widely when he saw her and Hans was beginning to think the other man was completely insane.

Then he beckoned her over and it wasn't just a theory anymore.

"Thyra!" Kristoff greeted excitedly. "Meet Hans. He's our newest recruit. Please don't kill him just yet."

Thyra looked Hans up and down. She sighed heavily. "Well, since you asked so nicely, I suppose I can play nice with the pups," she told Kristoff, pouting at him.

"I'm not a pup," Hans muttered.

Thyra rounded on him so fast he almost didn't see her turn. "Look, pup. I don't know why the hell you're here but I do know one thing: the only things a royal brat like you could do to get yourself the same sentence as us mere mortals are the sort of things that I'd kill you for, just out of principle. So. I don't want to know the specifics, but I already know that I don't like you and I doubt everyone else in there will be overfond of you either. Just a bit of friendly advice: I could call you a pup or I could bury a knife in your ribcage. Your choice."

"Sorry," Hans said.

Thyra threw back her head and laughed. "You're a charmer, pup, and I damn good one too, I'd wager. Don't you dare try lying to me. You aren't sorry. You're scared. There's a pretty big difference. Lie to me again and I'll gut you on the steps of the palace itself."

"Noted," Hans choked out, not knowing what else he could say.

"Good boy," Thyra snapped.

Kristoff stepped between them, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "That's enough, Thyra," he said. "You've had your fun."

Thyra backed down with a put-upon sigh and an eye roll. "He's too damn soft," she insisted. "You'd better make it up to me."

"Well," Kristoff said enticingly. "Elsa's sending me to the east for a few weeks to inspect the guard towers. Someone has to run the show while I'm gone. I've already named you as my official second in command."

Thyra considered his offer for a few moments. "I like you," she decided.

"I hate you," Hans whispered.


	5. Chapter 5

Anna found Kristoff in the stables. He was packing the last of his bags into his new sled. Sven was already harnessed, barely able to contain his eagerness. Sven loved to travel. So did Anna, but she rarely found the time anymore.

"Sneaking off without me?" she asked playfully.

Kristoff jumped. "Anna!" he said. "I, um, I was just..."

He was really adorable when he was flustered. She kissed him gently.

"Relax. Elsa already told me what's going on. I don't mind." She did mind, actually, but it wasn't Elsa or Kristoff's fault, so it wouldn't be fair to get mad at them.

"Maybe...you could come with me?"

Anna sighed. "Matthias says I'll be Awakening soon, but no one knows exactly when. If I'm not in Arrendale when it happens..." She trailed off.

Kristoff frowned. "I know," he said gently, resting his hand on her shoulder. "Pabbie told me."

Anna opened her mouth to speak, but a scream from the courtyard cut her off.

They shared a quick glance, before running out of the stables.

A crowd was already forming in the few seconds it took them to reach the courtyard. Kristoff shouldered his was through with ease and Anna followed on his heels.

A young man with curly blond hair lay on the ground, unmoving. He was dressed in fine clothes, but he wasn't one of the nobles Anna had met before.

"Everybody get out of the way!" Anna ordered. "He needs space!"

The crowd hurried to comply. She rushed to his side, feeling for a pulse. It was weak and thready, but she breathed a sigh of relief when she found it. Kristoff stood by her side, watching over her.

Just as she was about to send for a healer, another voice cut through the air.

"Sig!" Prince Gunnar cried. He had slipped through the crowds within seconds and knelt by the fallen man, his face pale.

"Sig," he whispered, cradling the man, "Sig, Wilhelm told you not to come."

Sig's eyes opened. "Yeah, well, I got bored," he choked out, slumping back into unconsciousness.

"What's going on here?" Elsa had arrived on the scene.

Gunnar picked Sig up, holding him close to his chest like a small child. "My brother, Sigurd," he explained. "He's a Speaker. He can't leave the Southern Isles, but he must have stowed away on the ship. He always wanted to go on an adventure."

"Go," Elsa commanded. "The sooner you leave, the sooner you'll get him home."

"No point," yet another voice said. It was Prince Aleksander, looking on sadly. Prince Viggo stood at his shoulder. "The journey takes a week. He has three days at most. We'll never get him home in time."

For a moment, everyone was silent in horror. Then an idea popped into Anna's head.

"What about Pabbie?" she asked.

Kristoff looked at her blankly. "What?"

"He helped me, right? When I was a kid?" Anna continued. "Maybe he could help."

Kristoff sighed. "Maybe, but it's a slim chance."

"A slim chance is better than no chance at all," Aleksander said grimly. "Can you get to him in time?"

"I can," Kristoff said.

"Then take him," Aleksander said, almost begging.

Kristoff glanced at Elsa, who nodded once. "Sven!" he called.

Sven burst out of the stables, pulling the sled behind him. Kristoff climbed into the drivers seat and took the reins.

"You might want to tell Commander Peura that I'll be late," he advised.

Elsa chuckled. "I'm sure he won't mind."

"I'm coming with you," Gunnar insisted, daring anyone to say otherwise.

Kristoff wrinkled his nose and Anna had to smile. She remembered how much he hated taking people places.

"As long as you don't try to bring your own horse," Kristoff agreed.

"What's wrong with my horse?" Gunnar demanded, holding Sig in his lap next to Kristoff.

"Nothing," Kristoff said. "But Sven and I know the mountains like we know our own names. Anyone but Sven'd slow us down."

"Fair enough," Gunnar said.

Kristoff leaned over and kissed Anna.

"Be careful," she ordered.

"Aren't I always?" he asked.

She raised an eyebrow. "Do you really want me to answer that?"

Kristoff shrugged. "You're hardly one to talk. Love you."

With that, Sven sped off out of the city.

The foreign princes watched them go, eyes filled with fear.

"Will he be alright?" Anna asked.

Aleksander sighed heavily. "He may yet live. That is the most I dare hope for."

"Why don't you come inside," Elsa suggested. "Kristoff knows what he's doing. Your brother will be fine."

There was a brief pause.

"Who's Pabbie?" Viggo asked.

He knelt in the new-fallen snow, surveying the mountainside carefully. No signs of life, save for himself and smoke from a fire a few miles away. Probably, it was someone who had set up shop on the mountains. Maybe they would have what he sought.

He made good time, arriving at the small wood building in just under an hour. Even in unfamiliar lands, he always knew how to find his way. Alvilda would be proud of him.

The shop was called Wandering Oaken's Trading Post. It was so gimmicky it was almost physically painful. The sauna just made things worse.

A bell jingled when he opened the door. Well, at least Oaken kept a decent stock. Give the man some credit. That didn't' mean he would find what he needed.

"Yoo hoo! Big winter blowout!" a voice called.

He spun around. There was an irritatingly cheerful man in a ridiculous wool hat sitting at the checkout table. He hadn't noticed the man before. He must be losing his touch.

"Half off of winter boots, cloaks, and firewood I chopped myself!"

"Are you Oaken?" he asked.

"Yes, of course," the man said. "Can I help you with something?"

"You can," he said, pulling a scrap of paper out of his coat. "You sell anything like this?"

Oaken looked at the picture. "I think we have something similar enough. It'll be one hundred."

"A hundred?" he sneered. "That's ludicrous. Fifty."

"Oh, no. That's no good," Oaken said, looking distressed. "You see, this requires careful handling. The transportation costs alone are sixty. One hundred or nothing."

He smirked. "I was hoping you'd say that," he confessed. With a flick of his wrist, the door swung shut and barred. Finally. He got to have a little fun.

Gunnar had to admit that Kristoff was right; Gry, despite being one of the fastest horses in the Southern Isles, would never have been able to keep pace with the reindeer.

By the time dusk started to fall, Arrendale was out of sight. Gunnar would have been hopelessly lost in the wilderness, but Kristoff seemed to know exactly where he was going.

They didn't talk, Sig's dead weight constricting Gunnar's chest, until they stopped to make camp in a clearing.

"We'll leave at dawn," Kristoff decided. "Sven can't go any further tonight and there are wolves in these woods." He leapt from the sled and started to build a fire.

Gunnar brought Sig as close to the flames as he dared. "What if the wolves come here?"

Kristoff laughed. "This is still Elsa's land," he explained. "No wolf would dare lay a paw on any human in Arrendale. Tomorrow we'll leave Arrendale's borders. We'll have to fend for ourselves."

Gunnar leaned back, staggered. "I didn't know the Queen was that powerful," he whispered.

Kristoff shrugged. "She's scary when she's mad, I'm not ashamed to admit it, but she only strengthens the magics that have always guarded this land. All kingdoms have protections, but few rulers have the knowledge to fortify them."

Gunnar raised an eyebrow. "For a former ice seller, you seem to know an awful lot about magic. Do you have any yourself?"

Sig whimpered and tried to curl up. Gunnar wrapped his brother in his own cloak.

"Pabbie...Pabbie pretty much adopted me," Kristoff explained. "I'm not magic at all, but he taught me all the theory I could learn. In fact, I've been teach Elsa a lot of what I know."

He spread out his bedroll and lay down, not even bothering to take off his boots. Sven curled up next to him.

"So who is this Pabbie?" Gunnar asked, pulling off his shirt.

Kristoff blushed. "Oh, yeah. I should probably tell you. He's a troll shaman."

"A troll?" Gunnar asked, unwrapping his chest bindings. "You were raised by a troll?"

"By the whole clan, really," Kristoff corrected, trailing off when he saw Gunnar's bare chest.

Gunnar raised an eyebrow. "Go on, I know you want to say something," he said.

Kristoff shook his head. "I really don't. I just...wan't expecting it, is all."

"You don't think I should have stayed a pretty princess in pretty dresses?" Gunnar demanded.

Kristoff made a show of considering the question. "Depends on how pretty the dresses are," he decided. "I mean, I'd look amazing in some of Anna's dresses..."

Gunnar laughed. "I think I like you," he said.

"That's nice," Kristoff said. "Now go to sleep. You royal types never realize how damn early dawn actually is. I'm not dragging two princely asses all the way up north."


	6. Chapter 6

Hans cracked his eyes open, half fearing that the tiny motion would disturb his slumbering roommate. His fears, or at least those particular fears, were unfounded. Thyra didn't so much as twitch.

Carefully, Hans sat up, the hard bed creaking at ever move. Thyra snored loudly. Her auga hung on a nail embedded in the wall. He was still in sight of it, but by the time anyone thought to look through its memories, he would be long gone. In fact, he wasn't even sure that the auga worked if it wasn't being worn.

The door shrieked like a dying cat when he opened it and the moonlight was almost as bright as the sun, bright enough to wake someone as it illuminated the room, but Thyra only rolled over. Apparently, the legendary murderess slept like the dead.

Hans paused for a long moment in the threshold, contemplating strangling her in her sleep, but he decided it was too risky. Stealth was his greatest chance, and he knew he didn't have the skill to face her in open combat. And besides, he was sure she knew more about fighting dirty than he ever would.

Silent as the shadows around him, Hans slipped away into the night.

Now, there was just the small matter of Elsa's other wards.

In Anna's dreams, she was flying high above Arrendale. The city was spread out before her like a glistening jewel in the fjords. She swooped through the empty, starlit streets laughing and singing to herself.

Save for the stars and the moon, there was only one other light, a candle shining in a tower room of the palace, flickering softly.

Curious, she floated closer, wind running through her hair like her mother's gentle touch.

The tower room was a library, filled with old, dusty books and illuminated with a soft, red glow. There was a purple plush armchair with its back to the window and a figure sitting in the armchair, reading.

She drew closer. The man turned a page. He didn't seem to notice her. He reminded her of her father, tall and strong with a small mustache, but his black hair was greying at the temples and he wore half-moon glasses. For some reason, she trusted him completely.

She sat down in the chair next to his and waited for him to speak. It was very important that she listened to what he had to say, although she didn't know why.

Eventually, he put down the book and stood up.

"Hello, Anna," he said with a warm smile. His eyes were pale blue, almost white. He blinked and they were dark and deep as the ocean. It was a slightly more comforting shade.

"Hi," she said, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Who are you?" She winced at the question.

He chuckled softly, like he wasn't supposed to be amused. "I am called Ingvar and Hjalmar, depending, of course, on whom you ask, but I imagine you'd know me best as Arendelle."

Anna's mouth dropped open. "You- you're Arendelle?" she asked.

"Yes," the man said with a graceful incline of the head. "And I take it you are the new Speaker, Anna?" he asked.

"That's what they tell me," Anna shrugged.

Arendelle looked over her with a critical eye. She squirmed awkwardly. He reminded her of her stricter tutors.

"You are fond of her royal majesty, Queen Elsa, no?" he asked suddenly.

"She's my sister," Anna replied.

"Yes, yes," Arendelle said with an impatient wave of the hand. "But are you fond of her royal majesty, Queen Elsa?"

"I love her," Anna said, amazed that it was even a question.

"Excellent," Arendelle said. "That makes our job much easier."

"So, what exactly is our job?" Anna asked.

Arendelle ignored her, picking up his book again and flipping through it intently, glasses nearly sliding off his nose.

"Uh, Arendelle?" Anna ventured.

He didn't respond, turning back a few pages and frowning at the page number,

"Ingvar?" Anna tried.

That didn't elicit any more response.

"Hjalmar?"

He looked up at her. "Hmm?"

"What exactly is our job?" Anna repeated.

"To advise," Hjalmar, as he apparently preferred to be called, replied.

"Yeah, that's great," Anna said, "but I'm not really amazing with the whole advising thing."

Hjalmar raised an eyebrow at her, snapping his book shut. "I advise. You give her royal majesty, Queen Elsa my advice. It's not terribly complicated."

"Although it is potentially lethal, apparently," Anna pointed out.

Hjalmar shrugged elegantly. "It's rather more imperative that there is a Speaker in the Southern Isles."

"Why?" Anna asked.

Hjalmar smiled tightly. "I would have thought you'd studied politics. Ah well, it's no great matter. Get some rest. We'll talk more tomorrow night."

"But-" Anna started.

Hjalmar waved a hand. "Rest, my dear."

Anna drifted away into dreamless sleep.

Viggo sat in the windowsill, his naked sword resting across knees. He had tried to sleep, but his instinctive paranoia had kept him awake.

He had considered lighting a candle, but that seemed almost blasphemous in the light of the northern lights. He had never seen anything like it before, though Torben spoke of them almost as often as he spoke of the wonders of the far south.

Even if he had been willing to sleep, Viggo sensed that the sky would keep him awake.

He looked down at his sword, which glowed green in the eerie light. He ran one gloved hand down its surface, the other unconsciously curling into a fist.

The icy decorations throughout Arendelle proved that the magic was something that could be controlled, and Queen Elsa's gift was nigh impossibly powerful. If she could manage her power, there was no reason he couldn't. But, on the other hand, she had a far greater margin for error.

He had heard from Hans that Princess Anna had nearly frozen to death from her sister's magics, but the princess was whole and healthy now. If Viggo made a mistake, it would be much, much harder to fix.

He had never lost control, but he had never dared to try.

Still, he couldn't help but hope. Carefully, he worked the right glove off his hand. He ran his hand down the blade again, watching it ripple beneath his fingers.

Grinning, he poured a little more magic into the metal. The sword warped uncontrollably, then shattered. Viggo quickly pulled the glove back on.

It was probably a good he had never named that sword.

Hans clung to the shadows, wishing he knew the city a bit better. He only had a vague idea of where he was going, which tended to be a problem when one was trying to be sneaky.

Come to think of it, he wasn't sure what he planned to do once he escaped the city. He suspected hiding from Elsa would be step one, followed by hiding from Kristoff, hiding from his brothers, and hiding from Anna.

Maybe he could run away to Corona. He had heard the Captain of the Guard was a horse. It shouldn't be too hard to stay hidden there.

He heard a patrol approaching and slipped into a small alley. As soon as the shadows covered him, he felt one hand wrap around his mouth and the other around his throat.

He elbowed his assailant in the stomach, then twisted out of their grip to throw a punch at their jaw. The assailant ducked under the first blow, but was caught the swift kick to their shin.

The stranger dropped to one knee with a startled hiss, but surged to their feet a moment later and slammed the heel of their hand into Hans's solar plexus.

Hans doubled over in pain and the stranger swept his feet out from under him, sitting on top of his chest and pinning his wrists above his head with one hand, the other clapped over his mouth.

"Shhh," the stranger whispered in his ear. "We don't want to be overheard, now do we, dear?"

Hans thrashed as hard as he could, but the stranger kept him down easily.

"Now then," the stranger said decisively, "My name's Aron, and I imagine we'll be working together rather closely in the near future, so I'd prefer if there was no hostility between us. I'm going to let you up now. Please don't try to run off again. I'd hate to have to hurt that pretty face of yours."

Aron stood up, somehow managing to make that simple action look seductive and Hans carefully got to his feet.

"There now. Isn't that better?" Aron asked, grinning so widely that Hans was surprised he didn't have pointed teeth. His bright blue eyes were gleaming in the dark. Hans swallowed nervously. Aron grinned wider.

Hans sidled away, keeping a wary eye on Aron, whose gaze was disturbingly predatory. The Blue Cloak made no effort to stop him.

When he was finally forced to turn his back, Aron spoke again. "I do hope you're planning to go back to your room, rakki. If you keep trying to run, her majesty will have to come after you. You are extremely lucky that it was I who found you.

"Don't call me that," Hans growled.

Aron laughed softly, musically. Even knowing the danger, Hans couldn't help but be intrigued. "I'll call you whatever I like, rakki. Besides, I think it suits you."

Hans snarled wordlessly, but Aron only laughed again.

"Get some sleep, rakki. You'll need it." With that, he melted back into the shadows.

* * *

A/N: Don't worry. This isn't going to turn into Aron/Hans. Aron just has that effect on everybody.

Viggo having powers is a nod to the Fire!Hans trend, which sadly will not be happening in this fic. Viggo is the only Prince with any significant powers. Gunnar can talk to birds, but he absolutely refuses to. He's still mad at his parents about the whole faerie thing.

Any foreign terms are poorly researched Old Norse and will probably be mostly insults or magic terminology.

Speaking of magic, a quick note on worldbuilding: There are two main kinds of magic: lund and gorr.

Lund is the kind of magic Elsa and the trolls have. It occurs naturally and its users possess the power their whole life. Although, the potential to use the power comes from within, the power itself comes from the world around the user, which is what allows Elsa to do things like build a freaking ginormous castle in like half a musical number. Of course, Elsa is much, much more powerful than normal. Most lund sorcerers only have limited, very specific abilities.

Gorr is the kind that Mother Gothel and most other villains have. It's not evil, but it's much easier to get ahold of if you want to use it for evil. It comes from spell, magic potions, etc. Although the potential to use the power is external, the power itself is the user's own. Thus, it's much harder to perform the extraordinary feats lund sorcerers are capable of without exhausting oneself. Gorr sorcerers can train themselves like they can train their muscles, but few get very far.

A lund sorcerer can supplement their abilities with gorr magic. For example, most princess are born with the ability to talk to animals, but they can also learn to, for example, turn carbon into diamond or something with gorr magic.

There are a few magic users, like Rapunzel and Cinderella's fairy godmother that don't clearly fit into either category, but they're not particularly important to the story.


	7. Chapter 7

They had agreed to meet in a hideaway far, far north. Even in the shadow of the North Mountain, the younger and weaker minded above them feared discovery. True, the Queen's ice palace and given them all a turn, but Alvilda was nothing if not able to adapt.

Adaptable and merciless.

"My lady, the merchant-" he started.

"Silence," she commanded, waving a hand in irritation.

He knelt lower. There was nothing else he could do to save himself.

"My lady," Eyvindur said, rising from his seat at the base of her throne. "We did take into account this possibility. If this merchant is, in fact, the Afli, we must take action."

Alvilda rose, sweeping past him like he was no more than the dirt beneath her feet. "He is," she declared. "I know him of old. He will not act unless his hand is forced."

"Then we must force his hand," a lesser advisor said.

"No. We must not," Eyvindur stated solemnly. "But what of the Queen? She has the power to threaten us."

"The power, yes, but neither the knowledge nor the control. We must ensure it remains thus if our plan is to succeed."

"And how will we do that?" another lieutenant asked.

Alvilda crouched down where he knelt, fixing him with her burning gaze. "Are you willing to die for me?" she asked.

"Yes," he whispered and knew in his heart that it was true. "Yes. I am."

She smiled kindly. "Good."

Her hand closed over his forehead and she began to chant. As his sight darkened, he thought that maybe, just maybe he had finally pleased her.

Torben was just finishing up his breakfast when Elva drifted downstairs.

"Good morning," he said politely. Their marriage wasn't a particularly unpleasant one, but it was a marriage of convenience, not of love.

"Good morning," Elva replied. "I'm visiting Annelise today. We probably aren't going to be able to find an excuse to be alone together, not with her parents watching."

Torben grimaced. "Send her my regards and send Henrik my love."

Elva chuckled. "Naturally."

Their daily interaction finished, Torben walked down to his personal shipyard. He didn't know anywhere near as much about ship building as he wanted to, but the Red Sky at Night would be the pride of the Southern Isles Navy when it was finished and for an island nation, that was saying a lot.

He loved watching the workers build it. He didn't have any pressing duties at the moment, so he planned to spend the whole day just watching, but his aide, Nicoline, appeared at his side just before lunchtime.

"What is it?" he asked, worried. Nicoline knew better than to disturb him for anything left than an emergency.

"Your brother is here to see you, Admiral," Nicoline said.

"Which one?" It would be fine as long as it wasn't-

"Gustav, Admiral."

Well, damn. "What does he want?" Torben asked.

"He didn't say," Nicoline said wryly. Torben rolled his eyes. "He indicated that it was only for you to know."

Double damn. And he was having such a nice day.

Much to Kristoff's surprise, Gunnar was awake before the dawn, so they got an early start.

The sun was just beginning to rise over the horizon when Gunnar spoke.

"So how did you come to be adopted by trolls?" he asked. "That's not exactly normal."

"How come the Southern Isles has three Speakers?" Kristoff shot back. "That's not exactly normal either."

Gunnar really didn't want to tell the story, but it was a good question. "Story for a story?" he suggested.

Kristoff considered the offer. "Fair enough," he decided. "It's a bit of a long story."

"Okay, so first you have to know I have a huge family. Two huge families, actually, but we're talking about my human family," he began. "I mean, thirteen kids is a lot, sure, but I've got something like twenty older brothers and fifteen or so older sisters. I can't keep track of them. Problem was, neither could Mother.

"I'm one of triplets and by the time we were born, Mother had gone a little bit crazy. Father was away ice harvesting, it's a family thing, so it was just us and Mother for a while."

"How crazy was your mother?" Gunnar asked, intrigued.

Kristoff just stared at him. "Let's put it this way," he said warily. "My sister's named Christine and my brother's named Christopher."

Gunnar winced. Kristoff snorted.

"So anyway, Mother started to get confused about how many of us there and me and Christopher stayed out of each other's ways anyway, so by the time Father came home and found himself with more children, he thought he had twins, not triplets.

"I met Sven here-" he patted the reindeer "-somewhere along the way and for a while, he was pretty much my only friend. We took to following the ice harvesters around during the summer, but they weren't too fond of us. We always got underfoot. One year, they kind of forgot about us, which we were pretty much used to, but we fell behind a little and then I see two horses galloping past and one of them is trailing ice.

"So of course, we had to follow it. I probably can't tell you the rest of the story, state secrets or something, but long story short, that's how I met the trolls. Mama Bulda, you'll meet her soon, took a liking to us, so we decided to stay."

"And Hans complains about being ignored," Gunnar whispered.

"Oh, he probably is," Kristoff said. "And that makes it partially your fault that he tried to kill Anna and Elsa. But what about you? How'd you end up with so many Speakers?"

Gunnar opened his mouth, either to answer or to get angry, he hadn't decided yet, but he was cut off by a howl.

Kristoff sighed dramatically. "You have got to be kidding me," he said. "Sven, run."

Sven bolted, faster than Gunnar had thought possible, but the wolves were close at their heels.

Kristoff lit a torch to hold them, looking more irritated than worried as he did so. Gunnar watched in reluctant awe until an urgent moo from Sven caught his attention. They were headed straight for a cliff.

Kristoff grabbed Sig and threw him into Sven's back. Gunnar followed to make sure he stayed on. Kristoff stayed in the sled.

"Jump, Sven!" he called as they neared the chasm, cutting the harness free.

Sven landed safely on the other side just as Kristoff leaped clear from the sled, somehow managed to roll himself up to Sven.

Beneath them, the sled inexplicably burst into flames.

"Oh, come on!" Kristoff yelled into the gorge. "Is this what's gonna happen? Is this gonna be a thing now?"

"We should probably get going," Gunnar said.

"Yeah, yeah," Kristoff sighed. "You know, that's the second time in a row that's happened." He picked Sig up and threw him over his shoulders. "We should get to the Valley of the Living Rock in a few hours."

Gunnar couldn't hide his nervousness. "Are you sure they can help Sig?" he asked.

"No," Kristoff replied bluntly. "But Grandma Taika's been helping Speakers with various Speaker-related troubles for centuries. If she and Pabbie can't help, no one can."

Unsurprisingly, Hans'd had trouble sleeping after Aron's not-quite-threat, but he managed in the end to get a few hours of rest.

Dawn came too soon, accompanied by Thyra yanking him out of bed and onto the floor.

"You could have at least tried to wake me up normally," Hans sighed from the ground.

"Yeah, I probably could've," Thyra agreed, "but this isn't pomegranate season."

Hans blinked. "I'm not even going to ask." He pulled himself to his feet.

"Clean yourself up," Thyra ordered. "It's your first initiation day. Her majesty'll be coming by in an hour. You'll want to look pretty for the Queen, won't ya?"

Dread coiled in the pit of Hans's stomach. Thyra slapped him in the shoulder in a way that was probably meant to be comforting.

"Don't worry," she advised. "If she wanted to kill you, she'd make a spectacle of it."

Or maybe not.

Unfortunately, he had bathed the night before, so he only needed to shave and change into fresh clothes, which left plenty of time to pace nervously.

Fifteen minutes before Elsa was due to arrive, Aron took pity on him and introduced him to Simon, an exceptionally tall, if also exceptionally scrawny, man, and the two of them spent the rest of the time discussing the various merits of arsenic versus cyanide.

Finally, the main door opened and the Queen of Arendelle entered.

Hans freely admitted that he had never really seen Elsa as anything more than someone he could manipulate, or else as a force of nature. She was always either a puppet to him or a hurricane.

Standing in the doorway, it was plain that she was neither.

She stood tall and regal, free of pride, or perhaps completely above it. She wore no crown, but her hair was decorated with a circlet of ice. Despite the bitter cold of the encroaching winter, her sleeves were sheer and her dress was slit up to her knee on one side.

She was beautiful and terrible and every inch a ruler.

Almost without being aware of it, Hans sank to one knee. The Blue Cloaks did the same.

"Prince Hans of the Southern Isles," Elsa intoned. "You have knowingly and deliberately attacked all surviving members of the royal family of Arendelle in an attempt to unjustly take the throne of Arendelle for yourself. For those crimes, you deserve death."

For a moment, Hans stopped breathing, sure she had decided to have him killed after all.

"However, it has been decided that you are to live. You are being offered a second chance at life. The Queen's Eyes will give you the opportunity to become a better person. Take it or leave it as you will, but know that this is your final chance. If you betray us again, you will be killed on the spot. Do you accept these terms?"

There was very obviously only one right answer. "I do, your grace," Hans said as humbly as he could manage without sounding insincere.

Elsa waved her hand and a cloak of ice settled over his shoulders, surprisingly warm. Then she brought forth an auga and placed it around his neck. It seemed to weigh nothing, but it was astonishingly heavy at the same time.

"Rise, Hans of the Queen's Eyes," Elsa commanded.

Hans rose to his feet.

"May you in time be forgiven," Elsa finished and swept out the door.

At first, Hans could only stare after her in shock. Her presence was overwhelming.

"Well, at least that's over with," he said.

Thyra started giggling.

He was so screwed.

* * *

A/N:

Part one of Kristoff's Tragic Backstory (tm) comes to light.

Torben's relationships are kind of confusing. Long story short, Torben/Henrik is a thing, Elva/Annelise is a thing, Henrik/Elva is occasionally a thing, Torben and Elva are married, Annelise and Henrik are married.

Also, it's kind of ironic that Gustav's a Speaker, given that he's mute.

The only ships I have decided to include are Kristanna and Torben's relationship stuff. Anything else is still a possibility, but I can't say for sure yet. If there is Helsa, it will be the slowest of slow burns.


	8. Chapter 8

Gustav was waiting in the front hall idly studying one of the paintings. He looked up when Torben entered. Before Torben could even open his mouth, Gustav placed a note into his hand.

Torben read it three times before his mind forced him to accept the words.

"Well, fuck," he said.

Gustav nodded soberly.

"Nicoline!" Torben called.

"Admiral," she said.

"Ready the _Benevolence. _Set a course for Arendelle. We leave within the hour."

Nicoline nodded and vanished down the halls.

"You gonna come with?" Torben asked.

Gustav raised an eyebrow.

"Fair point."

Gustav scribbled something else down on his pad of paper.

_Lars is coming with you. I couldn't persuade him not to. Sorry._

Torben sighed. "Why the hell does he want to come?"

_He's in search of true love._

"This can't end well."

Gustav snorted. _Remember when he met the Princess of Agrabah?_

Torben winced. "That tiger was pissed." Then he sighed. "Tell Lars he can tag along as long as he doesn't slow us down. We don't have any time to waste."

Gustav rolled his eyes. _It's a week long trip. A few hours won't make any difference._

"First of all, a few seconds might make all the difference. Second, Adella owes me a favor."

_Who's Adella?_

Torben laughed. "That is a very long story, brother dearest, and I've got work to do."

He turned on his heel and walked away.

In the shadow of the North Mountain, the wind suddenly began to roar. The maelstrom grew and grew until it was nearly a hurricane.

Trees cracked and broke, the river was beaten into a fury, even the face of the mountain began to crumble almost imperceptibly, erosion taking its toll.

Just as suddenly, the winds died.

Anna raced downstairs, barely stopping to fix her hair into something that wouldn't terrify the guests. She couldn't wait to tell Elsa about Hjalmar. Elsa would be thrilled; no one could take a country seriously if it didn't have a Speaker.

Anna was thrilled, too. She'd been waiting for that dream pretty much her whole life.

She rounded the corner into the dining hall, nearly crashing into the wall, but froze when she saw the princes there.

It wasn't that she didn't like them, they seemed nice enough, it was just that they were kinda intimidating.

"Hi," she said breathlessly.

Prince Aleksander smiled at her indulgently. "Good morning," he said politely.

Prince Viggo didn't say anything. He was staring determinedly at the painting of Joan of Arc.

"So, have you guys seen Elsa yet?" Anna asked, trying to sound casual.

"We have not, but she informed us she would be joining us for breakfast soon," Aleksander said.

"Well, um, okay." Anna tried and failed to think of something to say.

Just then, Olaf wandered in. Anna sighed in relief. "Hi guys," Olaf said cheerfully.

Viggo jumped back in shock with a sound probably would have qualified as a squeak if it came from someone less muscly. Aleksander did a double take, then buried his face in his hands. Anna giggled.

"Hey Olaf," she said. "What's up?"

"Oh, not much," he said. "Summer's nice and all, but I'm really looking forward to not having to worry about melting."

"Yeah," Anna said sympathetically, "That's gotta be a pain."

Olaf hummed in agreement. "So who are these guys?" he asked.

Aleksander and Viggo still looked slightly shell-shocked.

"Right, yeah," Anna said, "Introductions! I almost forgot. Olaf, meet Princes Aleksander and Viggo of the Southern Isles. Princes Aleksander and Viggo of the Southern Isles, meet Olaf."

"It's...it's a talking snowman," Aleksander whispered.

"Uh huh," Anna agreed brightly.

"Elsa wanted me to tell you guys she won't make it to breakfast," Olaf said. "She has some trade agreement to go over or something. Queen stuff."

Anna sighed. Elsa was always busy these days. They hardly saw each other any more than they had before the Coronation.

"Hey, maybe after breakfast I could show you guys around the city," Olaf said.

Anna caught the princes' nervous looks.

"That's a lovely idea, Olaf," she said, "But I know the Arendelle a lot better than you and I'm not doing anything today. Why don't I take care of it?"

"Okay," Olaf said sadly.

"And then afterwards I'll take you to visit the ice gardens, all right?"

Olaf brightened up. He hugged Anna quickly and dashed off, probably to tell Elsa.

"T-talking snowman," Aleksander muttered.

"Um, yeah, pay attention," Anna said, rolling her eyes. "Now come on. Breakfast'll get cold."

"It didn't work! Why didn't it work!?" Alvilda screeched.

"Perhaps we misinterpreted the spell," Eyvindur suggested.

"Impossible. That spell was flawless."

"And yet here we are."

Alvilda slapped Eyvindur across the face, her nails leaving long stripes of blood along his cheek.

"Apologies, my lady. I meant no disrespect."

Alvilda sneered. "You aren't wrong. So I won't kill you just yet."

Eyvindur inclined his head gratefully.

"You have more ideas," Alvilda stated.

"It may be that a different sacrifice is required. You were never over fond of that one."

"Well, find me a new one."

"Yes, my lady."

The air was starting to warm up a little. Gunnar hoped that meant they were getting close. They'd been walking almost the whole day and he was exhausted.

Kristoff didn't look any more energized, but he had been carrying Sig the whole time and had refused to let Gunnar or Sven take him.

Honestly, Gunnar was torn between impressed and jealous. Mostly, he was just worried. Sig had snuck off before, but he was usually at least semiconscious. This time, he hadn't so much as cracked open his eyes since they had found him in Arendelle.

"How much longer?" Gunnar asked.

"We're here."

They were standing in a small valley littered with boulders. Kristoff laid Sig down gently in the middle.

"Hey everybody!" he called. "I'm home!"

The rocks started vibrating and soon unfolded into a whole...group of trolls. What did you call a group of trolls anyway? They blinked at him in perfect unison. Then...

"Kristoff's home!"

Apparently, trolls swarmed. Who knew?

"Woah, woah, woah. Guys, calm down," Kristoff said, grinning. "I need to see Grandma Taika."

The trolls sobered.

"You don't know?" one of them asked.

"Know what?" Kristoff demanded.

"There's old, evil magic stirring," another said.

"Oh, lovely," Kristoff snarked.

"Pabbie and Taika are holding the wards," a third put in.

"The Valley is safe."

"But they cannot relax their guard."

"Why do you need to see Grandma so badly anyway?"

"Wandering Speaker," Kristoff explained. "From the Southern Isles."

The trolls muttered among themselves for a few moments.

"Don't you worry about a thing, dearie, Auntie Hulda and I will take care of everything."

"Thanks, Ma," Kristoff said with a sigh of relief.

"You know, does it ever occur to you that you can come visit when it's not an emergency?" the troll asked.

"Bulda, leave the poor boy alone," yet another said. "The Speaker's our concern right now."

"Don't think this conversation is over, young man," Bulda said sharply.

Kristoff gave Gunnar a frightened look. Gunnar just shrugged. It wasn't like it was _his _problem.

"My lady, we are not ready."

"Not for the original plan, no, but I have a better idea. This one we can put into action far sooner."

"We will need inside information, someone who knows the enemies workings intimately."

"Oh, don't you worry. I have that well in hand."

Hans sank down onto the bench with a muffled groan.

"I am never looking at trout the same way again," he muttered despairingly into the mess hall table.

"I don't know what you're so fussed about," Thyra said, snagging an apple from the basket on the table. "I always knew they were a fishy sort." She paused. "That-that was a terrible thing to say. Kill me now."

One of the Blue Cloaks Hans hadn't been introduced to tried to oblige. He ended up flat on his back with a boot on his throat.

Hans tried desperately to pretend he wasn't surrounded by madmen.

Just as he thought he might succeed, Aron slipped in beside him.

"So, how was your first day?" he asked, casually grabbing a sausage.

When Hans looked at him, he started sucking on it.

"Trout," Hans said hoarsely.

Aron raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "Ah yes. I'm not surprised. Thyra doesn't have any use for weak links."

As if to emphasize the point, Thyra snatched a roll out of Simon's fingers and ate it in two bites. Simon just sighed and picked up another.

Aron leaned in closer. "You know, there's something strange going on around here."

"Oh?" Hans asked, trying to ignore the other man's breath in his ear.

"That Prince, the one who stowed away. What was his name?" Aron asked, making sure they couldn't be overheard.

"Sigurd," Hans said, barely moving his lips.

"Any idea what happened to him?"

Hans knew, but he had a feeling answering would be unwise.

Aron drew back, licking the grease from the sausages off his fingers.

"There's something moving on the wind," he said. "Something dark and dangerous and it will be upon us soon. I can feel it."

With that, he got up and walked away. Hans could only stare at the far wall in shock. Surely, Aron was just trying to spook him, yet another way to taunt the new guy. Yes, of course. That was all. And yet, Hans knew damn well he wasn't the only spare in the family.

No one ever cared about the spares.

"A fine plan, is it not?"

"I could not have formed a better, my lady, but how are we to bring him to us? As long as he is within a Skjaldborg, we will never be able to even contact him."

"Fear not, my dear Wind Lord. I know what I am doing."

Elsa turned away from the mirror with a frown. It was a gamble, of course, and a huge one, but if worst came to worst, she would have an ace up her sleeve.


End file.
